Anything Goes
by notmycentury
Summary: Matthew's stuck with his dad and brother for the summer, far away from everything he's ever known. But when his perfect brother convinces him to audition for a musical, little does Matthew know that his life is about to change forever... PruCan & others.
1. Overture

**Story Title:** Anything Goes

**Summary:** Matthew's stuck in America with his dad and brother for the summer, far away from his mom, Canada, and everything else he's ever known. But when his perfect brother convinces him to audition for a summer show with him, little does Matthew know that his life is about to change forever...

**Pairings:** PruCan, RoChu, LietPol, DenNor, various others**  
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**Word Count:** 1,477

**AU information:** Summer Theatre AU, most characters are their canon ages although some may be younger (still working out the details)_, no _genderflip

**Warnings:** Language. Yaoi, yuri, het. No lemons planned but there may be some sexual references.

**Notes:** All right, so I'm taking on another project that I probably won't finish... *sigh* I was in Anything Goes, the musical the characters will be putting on, earlier this summer, so hopefully I am well informed on my subject and won't forget any important details. I don't own Anything Goes or Hetalia; all lines and lyrics I use belong to their respective owners (probably Cole Porter's estate). I will probably get lines wrong as this is only from memory (and some of our actors may have said them wrong all along, you theatre people know what I mean), so if you know the show and would care to correct me, that would be great. Enjoy!_  
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**Overture**_  
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_Cellophane, Mr. Cellophane, shoulda been my name, Mr. Cellophane_

_Cause you can look right through me, walk right by me_

_And never know I'm there..._

Opening his eyes slowly, Matthew Williams stared down into the sea of his fellow auditioners, blinking in the harsh stage lights. His voice lessons had not prepared him for this—this strange—_applause_? They were clapping for _him_?

His accompanist, who Matthew was pretty sure was also the music director, gave him an encouraging smile. His eyes widened. He was supposed to... bow, wasn't he? Whoops. He bent his head slightly, blushing, and hurried off the stage, nearly tripping and falling down the steps in his haste to be out of the spotlight. Why, oh, why had he ever let his idiot brother force him into this?

"_C'mon, Matt, it'll be fun! You don't have to try for a speaking part or anything. The chorus is really easy to get into! I mean, it's not like it's a professional company or anything, just a local summer show."_

"_Al, you know I can't dance."_

"_No, but you can sing! So they'll teach you to dance! Don't spend your whole summer holed up in your room with that polar bear of yours."_

"_Kumajiji is a _cat_."_

"_Looks like a bear to me. Anyway, just 'cause you're stuck with Dad and your friends are back in Canada, doesn't mean you can't do something fun~"_

"_Thanks. Al. Thanks so much. I really needed that optimistic appraisal of my situation."_

"_Um, sure, whatever. Anyway, you'll meet people! _New_ friends! Maybe even a boooyfrieeeend~"_

"_**Al!**"_

Lost in reverie, Matthew barely heard the slight _squeak... thump_ as someone took the seat next to him, or when they put their arm around the back of his chair. He only realized the person was there when they put their other hand on his shoulder, at which point he nearly folded himself up in his chair in surprise.

"Hey, uh... you sounded really good up there," said the person in a voice which was definitely male.

Matthew was stunned. Someone... complimented **him**? _He must be mistaking me for someone else,_ he decided, turning to the unknown boy to tell him so—

He stopped short, staring. He'd never seen anyone who looked remotely like this before. Silver hair—real silver, not light blonde—and beautiful red eyes (_red!_) and oh crap he was staring.

"I'm Gilbert, by the way," said the apparition, holding out a hand for Matthew to shake.

"Uh, Matthew. M-matthew Williams," Matthew blurted out, grabbing Gilbert's hand awkwardly as he realized just how _close_ they were sitting and blushed profusely.

"Hi, Mattie!" The strange boy—_Gilbert—_grinned, running a hand through his messy silver hair.

_A nickname ohmygod he's given me a nickname—_Matthew thought, nearly catatonic. Who was this person and _why could he see Matthew?_

"Um, uh—so how much longer are auditions going to last? N-not that I want to leave, um, this is fun, but I-I'm not sure if my parents—well, my dad, or my stepmom—know when to pick me up. Um, knows? But Al probably told Dad, so..." Matthew trailed off, blushing. Oh god he was blushing so much it must look so bad!

Gilbert laughed. Matthew had expected that. What he had not expected, however, was the next thing to come out of the boy's mouth: "You're kinda cute, you know."

_Kinda cute... **cute... HE THINKS I'M CUTE?**_

"Babble when you get nervous, huh?" Gilbert was saying. Mute, Matthew could only nod and watch his world crumble around him and be replaced with a new, shiny world where everything was silver and red and he wasn't invisible anymore. And he'd _mentioned_ Alfred and there hadn't been the usual exclamation of "Oh, you're _Alfred's _brother? He's soooo amazing and everyone just looooves him and I bet you're, um, pretty nice too but we all just LOVE Alfred!"

"—fter Tonio sings, it's dance audition, and then the cold read," Gilbert was saying. Matthew tried to pay attention. "Never done this before?"

Matthew shook his head, eyes wide. There was _more?_

"Wow, with a voice like yours? It's a good thing you're starting now. This is a really great show, y'know, really fun."

Matthew made a very intelligent noise that sounded something like "...buh?" and tried to stop gaping like a fish.

"Oh, dance time! Sweeeet!" Gilbert bounced out of his seat, grabbing Matthew's wrist and pulling him along. Matthew barely noticed when his seat jounced closed behind him, dumping his phone onto the floor.

The next few minutes (it had probably been much longer than that, but Matthew didn't notice) were a blur. Afterward, he couldn't remember a single one of the steps they'd been taught, nor whether he had managed to do them properly. He could see Gilbert being showoffy out of the corner of his eye, and tried not to stare at him all the time and concentrate on not tripping over his own feet. He was pretty sure he hadn't fallen on his butt or whacked anyone in the face, which was always good, but beyond that he had no idea what he'd been doing.

And then suddenly he had a script in his hand, someone had stuck a very large hat on his head and told him to pretend he was wearing a very large false beard, and he was being surrounded by what felt like the entire population of China but was probably more like about thirteen fellow thespians, some also clutching scripts. Matthew was glad his character was supposed to be flustered, because _he_ certainly was.

"Okay, that's good, back up!" someone, probably the director, yelled. "Angelique, start from your first line, please."

"I know who you are!" a tan-skinned girl with her hair in pigtails, presumably Angelique, shouted, pointing a finger at Matthew, who tried to hide under the hat. "You're George Bernard Shaw!"

They had been given context, which Matthew was currently trying desperately to remember. His character had used that as an alias, right? So he felt exposed. Matthew hid more under the hat and sunk in his shoulders in shame.

"I know who you are," shouted someone else behind him. Matthew looked at the script, pushed his hat back a bit and tried to look confused. (It wasn't hard.)

"You're Snake Eyes Johnson!"

Wait, who was this again? Had they said something about—

"Public Enemy Number One!"

Ah. This would be an Oh Crap moment.

Strangely, everyone started to rush _toward_ him. Oh, so _that's_ what they had been practicing when they were crowding him before. So they wanted to get _closer_ to a known criminal? This, Matthew decided, was a really weird play.

"Everybody stay back or I'll shoot!" yelled Gilbert, somewhere in Matthew's peripheral vision between someone's pale arm and someone else's really long sleeve. He made a finger gun, and Matthew tried not to blush, giggle, or both.

"Arrest this man! He's obviously an accomplice of Snake Eyes!" yelled someone, who seemed to be trying to sound very official and only succeeding in sounding very angry.

There was a pause in which Gil hammed it up pretending to be dragged offstage by invisible strongmen. Watching first Gilbert and then the people crowding around_ him _(ohgod), Matthew missed the next few lines and lost his place in the script.

People he couldn't see said things he couldn't find, and Matthew finally found his place around the Captain's line "Can't you see Mr. Johnson is a popular character?" Feeling claustrophobic, Matthew took off the stupid hat and raised an arm in the air, flailing it helplessly in an attempt to get more air and yelling his next line, "But I—"

The guy reading for the Captain, who seemed to be ridiculously happy all the time, said something about "drinking Mr. Johnson's health," and then suddenly people stopped talking and Matthew could hear a few people clapping out in the audience. Oh, was it over? Relieved, Matthew slid out of the crush of people and, not knowing what to do with the huge hat, threw it on the edge of the stage.

"Thank you!" he heard the director say. Oh good, that sounded final. "Matthew, Gilbert, Angelique, Antonio, Lovino, you may go—unless there's something else you'd like to do first?"

Matthew mutely shook his head and got the hell out of there. Alfred was so going to get it when they got home.

…_although he _was_ the reason I met Gil..._

Strangely enough, Matthew was beginning to hope he'd get into this thing. He shook his head. Al must be corrupting his mind...

Nevertheless, he went to sleep happy that night, humming the tune of "Anything Goes."

**End Notes:** So, did you like it? You know what would be really nice of you to do if you did, or even if you didn't? That's right, click the nice shiny review button. You know you want to. I always accept concrit and if you like or dislike something about the fic so far, I'd love to hear what it is so I can keep doing it/fix it. Cause the reason I don't continue most of my works is because they get few or no reviews and I get disappointed and feel like no one is paying attention to my work. *sadface*


	2. You're The Top

**Thanks so, so much for the reviews, you guys. All your feedback makes me so happy. And yes, what is this? A quick update... from RHIA? Feel free to gasp and die. It may not happen again. Anyway, I just dashed this off in a half-hour or so, since most of it had been in my head anyway, so although it's been beta'd, feel free to correct/suggest things in a review. Enjoy!**

Matthew stared at the screen in disbelief. What... what was this? A mistake, yes, it must be. Surely this email wasn't meant for _him_?

_Matthew,_

_We would like to invite you to play the role of Billy Crocker in our production of Anything Goes this summer. It is the lead role and is very acting- and singing-heavy, but you do not necessarily need to dance much. Please let me know if you accept, and I look forward to working with you!_

_Marcus Vargas, director_

What. WHAT.

And then Matthew realized. Of course! That was all it was. They had mixed him and his brother up. They must have mixed up their notes from the audition or... whatever it was they did. This email was meant for his brother. No matter that it had his name on it, they must have mixed the two names up. Yes. No need to panic.

"AL!"

A few minutes later, his brother poked his head around the corner of the door. "Yeah? Something wrong, Matt?"

"You might wanna read this. I think they mixed us up." Matthew pointed weakly at his computer screen, where the email was still up, staring balefully at him.

Alfred skimmed the email, and, unexpectedly, laughed. Matthew stared at him. What was so funny about this?

"Matt, that's great!"

Matthew's eyes went wide. "Nonono, you don't get it, Alfred. That... that wasn't meant for me. Right?" He waved his hands around in the air, attempting to illustrate his point and looking more like he was beginning to panic.

"No, it was! Look." Alfred shoved his own laptop in Matthew's face, showing him the email he'd received earlier.

_Alfred,_

_We would like to invite you to join the chorus of our production of Anything Goes this summer..._

Matthew nodded furiously. "See, see, the chorus! That's where I belong! Not you, you belong in the lead, not me!"

Alfred laughed lightly. "No, Mattie. Look at the bottom. It's meant for me, not you."

_...I look forward to working with you again this summer._

_Again,_ Matthew thought. _Why is that... OH._

"See? Cause I did this last year too, and..." Alfred explained pointlessly. Matthew wasn't listening.

They... had chosen _him?_ Him, of all people. To be the _lead?_ He didn't deserve this, he... how the _hell_ did they notice him?

"See, Mattie? I'm always telling you you have a great voice. Obviously they think so too! See? That's so awesome, bro, I'm happy for you!"

_Always telling me. Yeah, right. You mean people are always telling _you_ how awesome and perfect you are—not that I blame you, I mean, you're good at everything and all, but me? You sometimes don't even remember me, just like everyone else. I bet the minute I show up for that rehearsal they'll forget they gave that part to me and kick me out. I bet-_

"-Mattie? Mattie?" Alfred was waving his hand in front of Matthew's face, his own brow furrowed in something that might have been worry but was more likely confusion.

"Yeah, sorry."

"You'd better answer that email!" Alfred grinned at him, and Matthew managed a weak smile in response. What had he gotten himself into?

xXxXxXx

_**Cast List**_

_**Billy Crocker:** Matthew Williams_

_**Reno Sweeney:** Elise van Damme_

_**Hope Harcourt:** Lili Zwingli_

_**Sir Evelyn Oakleigh:** Toris Laurinaitis_

_**Moonface Martin:** Gilbert Beilschmidt_

_**Bonnie:** Elizaveta Héderváry_

_**Mrs. Harcourt:** Monica Bernard_

_**Elisha J. Whitney:** Ivan Braginsky_

_**Captain:** Mathias Køhler_

_**Purser:** Nikolai Sorensen_

_**Purity:** Luiza Stefanescu_

_**Charity:** Natalya Arlovskaya_

_**Chastity:** Yekaterina Braginskaya_

_**Virtue:** Angelique Chelle_

_**Ching:** Yong Soo Im_

_**Ling:** Hong Wang_

_**Bishop Henry T. Dodson:** Arthur Kirkland_

_**Steward:** Peter Kirkland_

_**Reporter:** Antonio Carriedo_

_**Cameraman:** Francis Bonnefois_

_**Ensemble:** Sadiq Adnan, Eduard von Bock, Raivis Galante, Alfred Jones, Herakles Karpusi, Emrys Kirkland, Feliks Lukasiewicz, Twyla Smith, Tino Vaïnämöinen, Feliciano Vargas, Enrico Vargas, Lovino Vargas, Kim Thi Wang, Mei Wang, Yao Wang, Vash Zwingli_

Matthew stared at the piece of paper on the door blankly. It confirmed his fears—they really _had _cast him in the lead. His name was the first one up there. And he knew almost none of the other ones. Wait... Toris, Toris, where did he know that name from? Oh yeah! That was one of Alfred's friends, wasn't it? He'd seemed nice enough when Matthew had met him, kinda quiet, like Matthew himself. He hadn't been able to understand why the guy hung out with his brother. Oh, hadn't they been roommates this year or something? That made sense, although Matthew's own roommate had been less than desirable and he certainly hadn't wanted to hang out with _him_ outside of school. Let's see, Moonface Martin... oh. _Oh._ So Gilbert had a last name! Matthew wasn't quite sure why this surprised him. Beilschmidt, huh? So he was German? At least, Matthew thought that was a German name.

"Hey, Mattie!"

Startled, Matthew jumped so much he almost slammed his knee into the doorknob.

"Don't scare me like that, y—Gilbert!" For some reason, Matthew started blushing uncontrollably when he saw those red eyes.

"Hey." Gilbert grinned at him, leaning on the wall with one hand in his (still messy) hair and managing to look incredibly cool and sexy. If Matthew had tried that pose, he would have fallen over—wait a second, _sexy?_ Oh no. Ohhh, no.

"Um, uh, hi!" Matthew was sure his face was crimson by now.

"So, you got the lead, huh? That's so awesome! Almost as awesome as me." Gilbert winked at him, and Matthew tried not to swoon. Ugh, this was _not good. _Matthew did _not_ do the falling-for-people thing. Every time he did, the person either never talked to him, forgot he existed (if they ever knew at all), or did something to hurt him without even realizing. And as for relationships? Never, if Matthew could help it. He didn't want yet another person around who'd constantly forget who he was and hurt him and—

"Mattie?"

"Um, sorry! I, uh—was thinking. I don't really know anyone here..." Matthew wasn't really sure why he had said that, but it was out of his mouth now.

"Oh, cool, I'll tell you about everyone! We're the first ones here, so I'll introduce you later, 'kay?" Gilbert smiled at him again. What was with him and smiling at Matthew? At him, not through him... Matthew tried to silence a happy sigh and turned to the cast list.

"So who's this then?" he said, pointing at the name below his on the list and realizing belatedly that somehow, he had managed to say a sentence to Gilbert Beilschmidt without stammering or saying "um." It must be looking at him that did it.

"Elise? Oh, she's the popular type. Really outgoing and all that. Different boyfriend every week. Perfect for Reno, although with that unawesome ribbon in her hair all the time she looks like a little girl. And lessee, your future girlfriend..."

"H-huh?"

"In the play! Geez, Mattie." Gilbert flicked him on the shoulder playfully. "Lili Zwingli. She's really cute—in the little-girl kind of way—but her brother is an unawesome gun-toting psycho, so I'd be careful about acting _too_ in love with her if you don't want a Swiss sniper ambushing you as you walk to your car."

"Oh. Wonderful. As if I didn't have enough to worry about, now I can't pretend to be in love with the girl I'm supposed to pretend to be in love with?" Matthew joked, marvelling at how easy it was to talk to Gilbert when he wasn't looking at him.

Gilbert laughed and looked at the next name. "Toris. Pushover."

Matthew looked at him incredulously. "That's all you have to say about my brother's ex-roommate?"

"Oh, you know him?"

"Not really, but I've seen him around. Is he really that bad?"

"Worries all the time and lets people order him around. How unawesome of him. Although he was kinda badass when we were little." At Matthew's questioning look, Gilbert added, "We grew up in the same neighbourhood."

"Ah. And obviously the next one I know..." Matthew said, laughing a little and wondering why this suddenly wasn't awkward. Gilbert was actually really easy to talk to once you got past the... unusual colouring and its ridiculous prettiness. And the fact that he did not seem to stop saying the word "awesome."

"Yup, Gilbert Beilschmidt, the awesome me!" Gilbert pointed a thumb at himself and stuck his chest out proudly. "And the next one's Lizzy. Lizzy is completely insane, obsessed with this weird gay porn stuff, and hits people with frying pans. And she thought she was a guy when she was little. We grew up together."

Matthew stared at him. "You're kidding."

Gilbert shook his head. "I'm completely serious."

"People here are that weird?"

"This is show biz, kid. You have to be a little crazy to survive."

Matthew groaned inwardly. That was not exactly what he'd wanted to hear on his first day...

"Oh, crap, people are coming," Gilbert whispered, waving an arm towards the entrance in a movement he probably thought was surreptitious. Matthew tried not to notice how close he was standing and completely failed.

"Okay, better make this quick. Ivan and Natalya you want to stay away from at all costs. Those two are certifiable psychopaths. Luiza is probably a vampire and she has two equally creepy siblings who thankfully aren't in this; NEVER get between her and Lizzy, those two hate each other and will kill anyone who gets in the way of their epic bitch-slap fights. Tonio and Franny are my best friends, but I'd stay within a few feet of Francis if you don't want to get groped. Who else is important? Uh... Never make fun of Artie's eyebrows unless you want to be hexed, never make fun of Lovino period, don't bother trying to wake Herakles up, and never, ever make Feli or Kat cry. That should be enough to help you survive around here." Gilbert patted him on the shoulder, and Matthew jumped at the contact. "I'll introduce you to everyone in a minute, come on." Taking Matthew's wrist, Gilbert started walking off in some random direction.

"Um, where are we going?"

"The aud. C'mon!"

For a second, Matthew thought he had said "odd." Upon realizing his mistake, he laughed a little at the thought that "odd" was probably a better word to describe it, considering the descriptions Gilbert had given him. He wondered again, not for the last time, what he was getting himself into.

**Notes on names:**

**-Elise van Damme = Belgium**

**-Monica Bernard = Monaco**

**-Luiza Stefanescu = Transylvania (her siblings are canon!Romania = Wallachia and Moldavia)**

**-I've used the most popular fanon names for Liechtenstein, Denmark, Norway and Ukraine.**

** -Angelique Chelle = Seychelles**

**-Emrys Kirkland = Wales**

**-Twyla Smith = Wy**

**-Enrico Vargas = Seborga**

**The others should be easy enough to guess, but let me know if you're confused on anything.**


	3. Bon Voyage

**I'm so sorry, you guys! I was working on my collab with Mandy and then school happened and it was the end of the quarter. But it's NaNo this month and I'm using it to get things DONE that I started but never finished, so hopefully you will see rather more from me starting now! ^-^  
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**Bon Voyage**

Matthew followed Gilbert cautiously into the auditorium, looking around him and trying to take everything in at once. He had been so dazed on the night of the audition that he'd barely noticed what the place looked like. And _damn_, it was big. Well, it did make sense, since this was a large, prosperous city school—some weird name, wasn't it? Hetalia Academy or something. He'd never been in here before the audition. The few times he'd visited his dad and Alfred had been on long weekends he'd had off from school, or occasionally during a couple of days on break, but he hadn't been to this town since his junior year of high school. He wondered how many of the people here knew each other. He wondered how old they all were. Did most of them go to this school? He knew Alfred used to.

He was jolted from his thoughts by the sudden appearance of a step down. The steps had been much narrower at the top, so he'd assumed when he had tried to take a step and stayed on the same level that it was a ramp or something. Not so, apparently, and at this point there wasn't much he could do because he was already falling. _Hell of a way to make an entrance_, he thought even as he anticipated the pain and probable carpet burn to follow.

It never happened.

"Gotcha! Watch that step, it's a bit of a surprise," said a voice in his ear. Gilbert, of course, and on his other side someone else was supporting him. Matthew really hoped it wasn't Gilbert's hand that had somehow ended up on his butt.

"Bonjour," said an oddly familiar voice in his other ear. Its owner sounded like he was incredibly sexy and knew it, which only served to annoy Matthew—hold on, _that_ Francis Bonnefois?

"Francis, get your hand off my ass," Matthew snapped, twisting away from the two boys supporting him and narrowly missing falling off the next step.

"Mathieu?" Francis asked with overdramatic incredulity. "My little cousin? How you've grown~! Come here and let me see you~"

"Hello to you too, Francis. I had no idea you were here," said Matthew, choosing to sit down on the arm of a folding theatre seat rather than attempt to go down another step. Despite his annoyance with his cousin sometimes (well, a lot of the time) he really did like the guy. Only he needed to stop groping people. (Read: Matthew Williams, his freakin' COUSIN.)

…and now Matthew felt extremely stupid because his name had been _right ther__e _on the cast list, somewhere down at the bottom, and he hadn't registered it because of the proximity of a certain Gilbert Beilschmidt.

This was not going to end well…

"Oui, I am here for the summer with _mes amis_ Gilbert and Antonio," Francis was saying, flashing a brilliant smile. "We wanted to do a musical this summer, so here we are! And you?"

"Dragged kicking and screaming," Matthew said wryly, ignoring the extremely unsatisfactory explanation Francis had given and assuming he'd hear a better one later. "Alfred invited me—said I had nothing better to do anyway. He seems to assume I made no friends in my first year of college. I… kinda hate that he's right. On both counts. Anyway, I tried to tell Mom to put her foot down, but she made me go, said it'd be good for me. I don't even like America very much, at least all two square feet of it that I've seen…"

"I had no idea you were into theatre," Francis said, a suspiciously concerned look coming onto his face. Matthew just _knew_ his cousin was going to start meddling as soon as Matthew's back was turned. He always had, and in rather embarrassing ways, much to Matthew's chagrin.

"Alfred made me," Matthew said curtly, looking anywhere but at Gilbert while trying to look like this totally wasn't what he was doing.

"And you got the lead! I am impressed, Mathieu!" Francis beamed and ruffled his hair.

"I have no idea how it happened…" Matthew muttered, beginning to think this was all a setup of some kind.

"Anyway, you should meet the other members of my trio of friends! Gilbert you seem to have already met…" Francis said with a calculating look first at Gilbert, then at Matthew, who was trying not to blush even though their relationship was perfectly innocent. Francis saw romance in _everything_, damn him. "And Antonio is… ah, there he is, talking to his little Lovino~" Francis's tone made this sound like the most innocent, adorable thing in the world. But the people he was gesturing at seemed to be having a huge argument—or rather, one of them was yelling at the other one, who was trying to make him stop causing a scene.

"Toni!" Gilbert yelled, making Matthew, who'd momentarily forgotten he was there, fall backwards off his perch on the chair arm and land his butt ungracefully in the middle of a seat with his head resting uncomfortably on the left arm of another.

"Ah, _lo siento, _Lovi, but my friends need me. We will talk later, no?" Matthew heard the words float over his head as he stared at the ceiling, wondering if people actually _walked_ on those little floating thingies with equipment on them. It looked scary.

And then three concerned faces were blocking his view. The face of his cousin, who looked all ready to go and grab Band-Aids to patch him up as he'd always done; the face of Gilbert, who looked adorably worried but also a bit as if he were biting back a laugh; and a third face, which mostly looked confused but also genuinely concerned. It had big green eyes and curly brown hair and a Spanish accent, his mind registered, and then connected this with a name. Antonio, yes. Antonio had big green eyes and curly brown hair and a Spanish accent.

"Mathieu? Are you all right?"

"Mattie? You okay?"

"Are you hurt?"

All three of them spoke nearly at the same time. Matthew's eyes widened. What _was_ this? Three people, all genuinely concerned about him for more than two seconds?

"I'm fine," he said, struggling to his feet and almost whacking all three of them in the face in the process. "Um, sorry! I'm really sorry!"

"Toni, this is Mattie," Gilbert said, laughing a little now and patting Matthew on the shoulder. "He's a bit shy, so be nice to him, okay?"

'A bit shy?' Understatement of the century, Matthew thought, smiling at Antonio and shaking his hand. When was the last time he'd been introduced to, well… _anyone?_

"I know! We should introduce you to everyone," Gilbert said, grabbing Matthew's arm and starting to drag him down the stairs.

"Oh, I—I mean, that's not—" Matthew protested uselessly, unable to think of anything much with this much physical contact.

"Hey guys!" Gilbert shouted, and Matthew realized with a jolt that they were standing onstage. "Come meet the star of the show! He's also the new kid, so be sure to help him out, yeah?"

Matthew just _knew_ his face was redder than a fire truck, but he managed a little wave and a strained smile and wondered if Gilbert was going to make things like this _all_ the time.

"This is Matthew Williams," Gilbert was saying. "He plays Billy and this is his first time in theatre, so let's give him a big welcome!"

He sounded like an old talk show host, Matthew thought, then realized belatedly that people were clapping for him. Again. He supposed he was going to have to get used to applause if he was really going to do this.

"Bon voyage," someone shouted, laughing, mispronouncing the second word as if he were speaking English.

"You mean _bon voyage_," Matthew corrected automatically, then immediately blushed. Whoops, not good protocol to correct the cast members he'd just met—hold on, why was Gilbert singing?

"_I hate to say goodbye, sweetheart~_" he sang melodramatically, pretending to kiss Matthew's hand and walking off down the stairs toward the seats. Matthew blushed even more. This wasn't what it looked like, this was—_Mon Dieu…._

"_By the seashore_," someone else more shouted than sang, to which someone else responded "_You mean _sur la plage!"

Matthew looked around wildly as more and more people joined in the song. What—what were they _doing_? Was it _always_ going to be like this?

Oh, lovely, and now the music director lady was playing the piano too. Did they all know this song? Was he supposed to—_why was Gilbert kneeling at his feet?_

"_Oh my dearie~ (You mean _ma cherie_) I'm yours for life~ (You mean _par la vie_)…_" Gilbert—and several other people, including Francis (of course)—sang at Matthew, who realized belatedly that they were crowding around him and hamming up the fake flirting, including singing in falsetto'd female voices and batting their eyelashes in order to attempt to be two people at once. _What was wrong with his life?_

"_So kiss me pretty wench, in English or in French…_" And then the music director was playing a dance bit and people seemed to be singing along with that too and doing random dance moves in the aisles and whoa okay apparently Francis and Gilbert had decided that Matthew made a good maypole and were dragging him around in a circle and now they were flirting with him again and oh good it was over.

People clapped and whooped. Matthew attempted to breathe and wondered if his face would need bleach to return to its normal pale colour.

"Shall we try that again, with sheet music in our hands?" the music director called over the noise. "Not exactly the way I was intending to start rehearsal, but it was a nice segue, thank you, Gilbert."

Oh. _Oh._

Matthew felt a bit of an idiot. This was a song from the show, wasn't it?

…Hold on a second, why was _he_ the wench?

He had no time to be indignant about this, though, because suddenly he was being shoved into a seat in the tenor section, provided with a binder with a script and sheet music inside, and told a page to go to. After that it was all he could do to keep up.

"All right, shall we try it from the top? Purser, why don't you say your line?"

"Tell it to the FBI," said a guy with pale blond hair and two crossed barrettes holding his bangs back, looking bored.

"Bon voyage!" Gilbert yelled, deliberately mispronouncing it.

"_You mean _bon voyage," the chorus sang, and then it was Matthew's little tiny solo.

"_I hate to say goodbye, sweetheart,_" he squeaked, barely knowing if he was hitting the right notes. They'd gone over this, but it still made him nervous to sing alone in front of all these people, even if he didn't have to look at them.

The rest of the song went by in a blur, Matthew following along with his part and singing quietly as he preferred to do.

"All right! Nikolai, work a little bit on your volume for that line. Matthew, you too, volume. Your line was great but we couldn't hear you. Lili, Monica, that was lovely, but try to be a bit more in-character. Tenors, can we fix that one place…."

After the first song, they read through all of the others that included a chorus. (Thankfully, the music director, whose name Matthew couldn't remember except that it was very Greek-sounding, didn't force him to sight-read his solo bits in those. He didn't think he could have done it. He wasn't a terrible reader, but under all that pressure…) And then suddenly the rehearsal was being dismissed… except for, apparently, Matthew. And Gilbert. And that Elise girl. _Great._

"We're just going to read through 'Friendship' today. It's a bit of a hard song and kind of annoying, and it's a trio, so I figured you guys should start it early so you have an idea what it's like. After that we can look at some of your solo bits and 'You're The Top.' Okay?" The music-director-Greek-lady beamed at them.

Matthew nodded mutely, Gilbert enthusiastically, Elise with an expression Matthew couldn't quite read, and then they were singing again.

"Friendship" wasn't _too_ terrible of a song, but he had to admit it was kind of annoying. After that Gilbert was dismissed and poor Matthew was stuck with Elise, the girl he barely knew. She barely even looked at him. Now _that_ was much more familiar.

"_At words poetic I'm so pathetic that I always have found it best_—" Matthew tried, then stopped. "Sorry, what's that note again for 'found'? I keep missing it."

The music director sang the line once through, and Matthew nodded. "Oh, it's just _do_? Okay. Wait, can I have 'found it best' again?"

He honestly wasn't trying to stall, he told himself. No, he was trying to get the right notes on the first try. And that was true… but he was also using it to stall, just a bit. He felt like a horrible person…

But eventually he had it, and once he got the tune down everything else was easy. Although he did find the lyrics a bit strange.

"'You're tomato ketchup?'" he quoted incredulously to Alfred in the car on the way home. "Who _writes_ these lyrics?"

"Uhhh… I don't know," Alfred said, seeming to actually give the question some thought. "Whoever wrote lyrics for the guy who wrote the musical, I guess."

"Cole Porter," Matthew said, sighing. Why was it that he knew more about theatre than Alfred, who had done it since high school, did? Oh yeah, because he actually _paid attention_ when people were telling him things. Sometimes his brother drove him insane. If he—

His phone vibrated in his pocket, distracting him from his thoughts. Slightly confused as to who would be texting him, he pulled it out and stared at it.

**New TXT Message**

**from**

**(327)-229-8183**

He didn't know the number, so it was probably a wrong-number text, but maybe it was actually for him. Shrugging, he opened it.

_Hey Mattie! Franny gave me ur number, hope u don't mind. anyway we should hang out sometime! also sorry if I embarrassed you today or anything..._

_and it's Gil, by the way, if you didn't realize from the aura of awesomeness. ;)_

Matthew was sure he must be grinning like an idiot, but he didn't care as long as the glow of his phone wasn't light enough for Alfred to be able to tell from the driver's seat. He saved the number to his contacts and spent a rather silly amount of time debating whether to save it as "Gilbert Beilschmidt" (which made him seem more like an acquaintance, which on the one hand he was, but he had been so nice that Matthew was hoping he'd become a friend and—not going to keep following this train of thought, bad Matthew), "Gilbert" (more friendly but still sounded a bit stiff), or "Gil" (very casual, made it seem like they'd known each other for ages). He eventually settled on "Gil" because really, who was going to see his contacts but Matthew himself? Although he certainly wasn't going to save the number as anything awkward. Anyway, he had a feeling that at some point, Gilbert was going to end up stealing his phone and changing his contact name to something like "Gil, the awesomest person ever!" or "Gil, your awesome best friend!" or something. Or at least, his wishful thinking had a feeling.

"What're you grinning about over there?" Alfred asked, looking over at him out of the corner of his eye, and Matthew cursed himself for being so obvious.

"N-nothing, just a text someone sent me. Francis. It was Francis," he lied, hoping the acting skills he apparently had would be enough to cover for him.

"It wasn't anything weird, was it?" By the dim glow of his phone backlight, Matthew could see his brother frowning, all ready to go into Protective Big Brother Mode.

"Nah, just something about his friend that he introduced me to today. He and his boyfriend or whatever the hell that guy is have a pretty entertaining relationship."

"Oh," said Alfred, dropping the subject for now, although Matthew could tell it was going to come up again.

Still, Matthew waited until he got up to his room… well, temporary living space… to reply to Gilbert's text, worrying that Alfred would read over his shoulder and try to figure out just what was entertaining about Antonio and Lovino's relationship.

It took him forever because he was trying to figure out how not to sound like a desperate friendless loser, but he eventually ended up with "_Hey, Gil. It's okay with me that Francis gave YOU my number, but if he's going to start giving it to random people on the street I will seriously kill him. ...he isn't… is he? Anyway, yeah, we should definitely hang out. And it's okay, I'm just not so used to being in the spotlight, is all._"

Hoping he didn't sound completely awful, he hit send, wincing, and put his phone down next to his bed.

He had almost forgotten about the text and was about to fall asleep when he heard his phone buzz again. He grinned into his pillow and picked up the phone, tilting his head in order to read the text.

_Don't worry, Mattie, if he gives anyone else ur number i'll take care of him for u. that way u don't have to deal with the body, right? ;) u free this weekend?_

_Yeah, I haven't exactly got any social engagements lined up, since I've barely been in this town a week. What were you thinking?_ he typed, then hit send, barely thinking about it.

_Movie maybe? franny, tonio and i are planning to go see that new movie super 8._

_all right, i admit it, im exploiting u. they both have dates and i don't XD_

DATES? Wait, wait, WHAT? Matthew read the text over at least three times, but it still said the same thing.

_Sure, sounds fine. I need to get some sleep. Good night!_ he typed, trying not to spaz and drop his phone. He could think about this in the morning. His overtired brain was not doing a very good job of processing it and he was probably overreacting. Right?

RIGHT?

'_night!_ Gilbert's text said, but Matthew was too overwrought to register it.

When he finally fell asleep, his dreams were confused swirls of silver and red and music.

**Reviews? I love reviews. I can sing about them, if you like. Would you like that? No, you wouldn't, would you. Anyway, if you left one it would make me very happy. That's a future less vivid, isn't it? Oh, I'm babbling about grammar structures, I'm sorry. Latin nerd shutting up now.**


	4. It's DeLovely

**Um. H-hi guys... *looks sheepish* I'm really, really sorry for the long wait. Again. I've been ridiculously busy and this is the first time I've had a breather. But I hope you enjoy it anyway!**

**It's DeLovely**

Matthew woke up humming—some song from the show, he couldn't quite remember the name of it, but it had a lot of octave jumps and he had a solo. Or was it a duet? They hadn't gone over his bit. While his brain tried to puzzle out the name of it, it also quietly registered the day of the week—Friday—and helpfully told him that he had rehearsal from seven until nine tonight and that it was just leads. So that would be who, then… Lili, Elise, Monica, Gil, Toris and Liz? Oh, and that Russian guy, probably. The scary one.

Gil. There was something about Gil that Matthew had to remember… _oh god._

Gil. Gil had texted him last night. And asked him out.

And Matthew had said yes. And it was this weekend. Which meant probably Saturday.

_Tomorrow was Saturday._

Matthew filed this information away in the back of his head in order to put off panicking for as long as possible, got up, and went to the kitchen to make pancakes.

As usual in this house, he was the first one up—Alfred, he had learned quickly, slept ridiculously late in the summer, and had planned his summer job accordingly (the afternoon shift at McDonalds), and Dad didn't have to go in to work in the summer. Matthew had thought vaguely of getting a summer job, but that would probably entail dealing with money and he was a bit hazy on how American dollars worked. Maybe he could be a chef at a restaurant somewhere. Far, far away from cash registers, preferably.

The doorbell rang, and Matthew jumped, nearly scalding himself. Who could that be at—he checked the clock—ten in the morning? Who the hell rang doorbells at ten in the morning when normal people were making pancakes?

"Mathieu~~" he heard someone saying through the door. He groaned.

"I should have known," he muttered to himself. "Francis, coming to exploit me for food. It's not like he can't cook his own. He's in _cooking school_, for God's sake." Still grumbling, he threw the door open, barely looking up, and groused, "Come in, why don't you? Take all my food while you're at it! Traditions my ass."

"Thank you~" an unfamiliar-yet-familiar voice said cheerily. Matthew looked up into the startling green eyes and tanned face of Antonio what's-his-face, Francis's best friend (who _must_ be insane to go out with that screaming guy).

"Yeah, thanks! Mmm, this smells good," said the unmistakable voice of Gilbert Beilschmidt. Matthew's face burned. What did Francis think he was doing, dragging his friends in here and disturbing Matthew's peace and quie—

And suddenly Matthew knew _exactly_ what his cousin was up to. What else but his favourite pastime, matchmaking?

Matthew's face burned even more. It had probably been Francis who texted him last night from Gilbert's phone, or at least he'd probably made Gilbert ask Matthew out—what did he think he was doing, he had no business—

"What's this?" he heard from the dining room. Gilbert again.

"You mean you've seriously never seen this before?" Francis this time. Matthew was studiously not looking, but he was sure his cousin's eyes were dramatically wide, whatever he was talking about.

"Mathieu! A poor maple syrup-deprived soul needs your assistance~" Francis called, and despite himself Matthew poked his head in the kitchen. Gilbert was frowning at a bottle of maple syrup, Francis' eyes were, sure enough, wide and over-shocked (Matthew was _sure_ he'd planned this), and Antonio was over by the sink, staring out the window into the mess that was the backyard.

"Oh, is this maple syrup? I've never had it—" Gilbert started to say. Matthew's eyes widened and he forgot all about any plots Francis might or might not have. _Never seen maple syrup before?_

Before Gilbert knew what hit him, Matthew had shoved a stack of pancakes in front of him and drizzled maple syrup over the top. He pretended not to notice Francis smirking behind him, although he did wonder what Antonio found so interesting in the yard. Perhaps he should go and look. Yes, that was a good excuse.

After a few minutes of staring aimlessly at the assortment of water pistols, plastic lightsabers and other brightly coloured toys strewn across the yard and making perfunctory conversation with Antonio, Matthew felt brave enough to turn around. The adorably content expression on Gilbert's face was almost enough to make him go right back to the window for fear he'd do something really stupid like hug him, but he managed to smile and ask if he liked it. At least, hopefully that was what had come out of his mouth. And hopefully it hadn't been a double entendre. Matthew was really bad at not doing those. He always put his mind in the gutter _after_ he'd said something really awkward. Gilbert was saying something…

"Thiff iff delicious!" he said, swallowing halfway through the sentence, and Matthew breathed a sigh of relief. Whatever he'd said, it hadn't been awkward enough for Gil to notice anything.

"Good! Great! Here, take this with you when you leave—" Matthew started to say, picking up a full bottle of maple syrup, then winced as he heard the unmistakable sound of Alfred singing in the shower. "Which really should be now, I'm sorry. Alfred will ask all _kinds_ of awkward questions if he finds you guys here and you'll probably be here all day."

After awkward goodbyes and shooings and Matthew glaring at his cousin when he would not stop winking, he finally managed to get them out of the house, just in time for Alfred to wander down the stairs humming "Anything Goes"—wait, no, what _was_ he humming? He kept switching keys and it was annoying. Also he had not bothered to put actual clothes on. Well, an actual shirt, anyway. Matthew was very, very glad Francis had left. And for that matter, Gilbert (ohhhh godddd). And for that matter, Antonio, oblivious though he was. _Why_ must his brother continually embarrass him?

The rest of the day passed mind-numbingly slowly as Alfred dragged his poor brother to the mall, introduced him to people who would certainly never remember his name and therefore he didn't bother to remember theirs, and "took him out to eat" (read: dragged him to McDonalds and made him eat the horrid food, as served by Alfred). Annoyingly enough, Alfred had to drive him to rehearsal, as his driver's license didn't work in the US and he hadn't bothered to think about getting a US version. Normally Matthew liked his brother, but today he was starting to get a bit… well, obnoxious. When he thought about it, he realized it was probably because Matthew was a horrible, horrible liar under pressure and was being overcautious lest Alfred should find out about a certain unexpected visit that morning. Matthew wasn't quite sure _why_ it was important that Alfred not know about it, but he suspected it had something to do with a fear that Alfred would try to take his, for lack of a better word, friends away from him. Alfred had this thing about approving of the people Matthew hung out with, and Matthew had a feeling that Gilbert Beilschmidt didn't exactly make the list.

"Bye, Al! Thanks for the ride!" Matthew said, grabbing his shoulder bag and putting one Converse'd foot out of Alfred's red pickup truck. He turned back briefly to remind his brother that he'd text him if he got out of rehearsal early, then walked into the school, waving as Alfred drove off, presumably to spend time with his actual friends whom he'd neglected today in order to spend time with Matthew.

…dammit, he was starting to feel really guilty.

"Hey, Mattie!" he heard from behind him. Turning, he saw Gil's unmistakable silver hair half-glowing in the dim light. He was standing with a few people that Matthew probably knew but whose names he couldn't presently remember, presumably the other leads. When he got closer, he recognized Elise, the Belgian girl who played Reno, and the scary Russian guy. The others he could probably have figured out if he'd had a list of names and some time to match names with faces, but before he could do so Gil was introducing them all.

"This is Lili," he said, pointing to a short girl with shoulder-length blonde hair and a sweet face. "She's your love interest."

"Just the kind of introduction every girl should have, Gil," Matthew said dryly, shaking the girl's hand. "Hi, I'm Matthew." He wondered at his ability to act so… normal. This was how he acted with people he'd known forever, but for some reason this girl felt… safe.

"Hello, Matthew," she said in a quiet, melodious voice. "I never got a chance to tell you, but I thought your audition was lovely."

"Thanks," he said, blushing. Absentmindedly he wondered how old she was. She looked young, but she might be a lot closer to his age than she seemed, especially if she was playing a lead.

"Elise you already know—" Matthew nodded to her, and she nodded back, not as coldly as Matthew would have expected. "The old lady over here is Monica—"

"Hey!" the girl, who had brown hair in a braid and glasses somewhat like Matthew's, interjected, glaring at Gilbert. "Don't listen to him. Just because I like to read…"

"I do too," Matthew said, smiling. "Have you two known each other a long time?"

"Francis and I grew up together, so he's kinda like a brother to me. And since those three are like brothers, we're kinda entitled to family squabbles by extension."

"Really? Francis is actually my cousin, so I… guess that extends to us!" Matthew tried to smile with the realization that he had probably just said something really, really weird and awkward.

"And now that we're done with the family reunion," Gil interrupted (for which Matthew was infinitely grateful), "this is Elizaveta. She's insa—_very nice and beautiful please don't hit me with your frying pan._" He threw his arms over his face protectively, and Matthew wondered if he was actually being serious.

"Hello," Elizaveta said, giving him a strange look. He might have been imagining it, but he could have sworn she'd looked from him to Gilbert and then grinned deviously. He decided he would rather stay out of the loop on whatever plots she might be hatching. And, in fact, stay out of her way as much as possible. She looked kinda scary with that possibly-non-existent frying pan of hers.

"And this is Toris. We fenced together in high school, so we're kinda rivals." Gilbert grinned, and Toris looked down at his shoe, uncomfortable (presumably at the casual arm Gilbert had slung across his shoulder, although it could have been discomfort with being considered anyone's rival).

"Hello," he said, smiling and extricating himself from Gilbert's over-friendly "rivalry." Matthew liked the look of him—he seemed pretty quiet and like he avoided fights whenever possible. (A trait Matthew himself had and admired in others.)

"Hi. You… were my brother's roommate, right?" Matthew asked tentatively, wondering how outgoing Alfred could possibly be friends with someone so like… well, like Matthew himself.

"Yeah, I was," Toris said, smiling. "Your brother is… very enthusiastic about what he does."

"He is. He also tends to get into trouble with his whole hero thing, which I hope he doesn't drag you into?"

"He does, but I don't mind," Toris said, looking rather as if he were trying to convince himself of this fact and wincing as if he were beginning to feel a migraine coming on.

"I definitely know how you feel," Matthew said sympathetically, and the two exchanged a glance of mutual exasperation.

"You will introduce me now, da?" said a voice from behind them, and they all jumped, Matthew, Toris and Gilbert especially.

"Oh, r-right!" Gilbert said. Matthew's eyes widened. But Gilbert was so self-confident! How could he be afraid of this… this… gigantic scary Russian oh dear god it was all Matthew could do not to run away. "T-this is Ivan. Ivan, this is… Matthew."

"Hello, Matvey!" the scary—_Ivan_ said, grinning childishly. For some reason that freaked Matthew out even more. But, he told himself, the guy probably wasn't _really_ scary, he just seemed that way because he was big!

…right?

"Let's, um, let's go in, eh? I think rehearsal was supposed to start five minutes ago…" Matthew said awkwardly, trying to break the frightened silence.

"Uh, that's the problem. The door's locked." Toris looked around worriedly. "Mr. Vargas should have been here already… I think Ms. Karpusi was supposed to show up at eight."

"Ahh, Vargas always shows up a few minutes late. S'okay," Gilbert said, waving his hand dismissively. "You guys have scripts yet?"

There were assorted nods and mumblings of assent.

"What d'you think we're gonna do today?" Elise said, apparently trying to make conversation.

"I think we were going to go over some scenes and maybe do some music runthrough?" Toris said, managing to make even that sound apologetic. Thankfully, they were all saved from having to attempt more conversation by the arrival of Mr. Vargas, who apologized cheerfully for being late as he unlocked the door to the theatre and walked in, chattering all the way about why he was late (he'd been picking up someone called Feli from an art class and he'd begged him to go out for gelato and, well, he just _couldn't_ say no).

Matthew was trying his hardest not to panic about having to read lines in front of people again. After all, he told himself, it was just a small group, right? Just leads. Yeah. He gulped and paged through his script as Mr. Vargas, still talking about Feli (who, Matthew had gathered by now, was Mr. Vargas' grandson), shuffled through a stack of papers.

"Okay!" the director burst out, straightening up and grinning at the cast. "We'll start with Act One, Scene One, which is mostly exposition. We've got everyone we need, I think—"

"Well, the Angels aren't here," Elise put in.

"Or the reporter or the cameraman," Monica added.

"We'll skip that part!" Mr. Vargas said, opening his script. "I think we won't worry about blocking right now and just sit in the house to start."

They took seats in the front row, Matthew between Toris and Gilbert and close enough to the end that he wouldn't trip over an entire row of feet if he had to get up for… any reason. He was trying not to think of what reasons he could possibly have.

Thankfully, all his fears came to naught. Sitting in between Toris, someone he'd already decided to trust and who was probably worrying even more than he was at the moment, and Gilbert, someone he was relatively comfortable with (as long as they weren't too close) and who was over-the-top and hammy, seemed to give him the right balance to not panic and manage his lines without too much stumbling. Whenever he got too quiet, Gilbert would nudge him, or, if they were in a scene together, he'd turn his acting up to eleven and force Matthew to match his energy, which seemed to work extremely well. By the end Matthew was laughing at the funny lines and hamming it up with everyone else, and he felt courageous enough to attempt a fake Chinese accent when the script called for it. It probably sounded terrible, but Gilbert's was definitely worse, and anyway, the others were laughing because it was _supposed_ to sound terrible.

The music director, Ms. Karpusi, arrived at eight and had to wait ten or fifteen minutes for the readthrough to finish because they were all having way too much fun with their lines. Eventually, though, the rehearsal was turned over to her, and she led a readthrough of the songs similar to the one they'd just done of the script. They'd already practiced some of the songs, so they weren't doing a complete cold read, but some of the songs were unfamiliar.

You're The Top went surprisingly well, considering that Matthew spent half of it trying not to crack up as he caught Gilbert making faces at him when he wasn't clutching his music like a lifeline. They all knew Bon Voyage pretty well by then, and just as they had the first time they'd gone over it, they hammed it up with elaborate gestures (although, thankfully, this time most of it was directed at the actual girls). Then they got to It's DeLovely, a love duet—more or less—between Billy, Matthew's character, and Hope, Lili's. Since they hadn't practiced it, Ms. Karpusi let the others sing along with them the first time through, and Gilbert was having a great time doing over-the-top gestures and attempting to dance with whoever was nearest to him (which usually happened to be Matthew). When Matthew and Lili finally got to do it alone, the tone of the piece changed to something sweeter, although Matthew tried to keep a bit of the teasing element, since the song was written that way.

They sang through Friendship (Gilbert spent most of the song with one arm around each of his costars, except for the bits where he was dancing around and trying to get a "one-two-three-team" fist pump going, which, of course, fit terribly with the music), then decided that they'd do solos at the end and skipped to Let's Misbehave. Matthew had never heard the song before, and as he sang along with Toris, his eyes grew wider and wider with each lyric. It was, well, the leadup to a sex scene, but it was also kind of hilarious. (Probably helped by Gilbert's horrible British accent.) When they let Toris and Elise do the song alone, it was even worse. Elise was really good at the whole "sexy" thing, but the lyrics were just… well. When Toris got his solo bit, Matthew found to his surprise that he, too, was perfectly in-character. He even had the accent down, and he had a really nice voice. Matthew suspected him of having prepared beforehand. Extensively. Not that that was a bad thing, but it was something you'd expect him to do. Aaaand now Matthew felt guilty for not looking over the music more.

That was the last song that involved more than one lead besides the reprise of All Through The Night, which they ran through quickly and then decided to have leads make appointments the next day to work on their solos with Ms. Karpusi. Matthew was about to make an appointment for himself when Gilbert jumped in with "He'll take 12:30 and I'll take 1. That should give us time to get to the movie, yeah Mattie?"

"Um." Matthew said, blushing. "Y-yeah, sure. It's… at 2?"

"Yeah." Gilbert grinned at him. "This way we can just head out together."

Matthew was painfully aware that the others were watching them and drawing their own conclusions. Which might or might not be close to the truth. Not that Matthew actually knew what the truth was. And there he was again with the trying not to panic.

On the way out, he felt a hand on his shoulder. "You look tense," Toris said, concern in his eyes as Matthew turned to face him. "It's the thing with Gilbert, isn't it?"

Matthew nodded and checked to make sure that Gilbert was far ahead before saying "I don't even know what the thing _is._ I mean, I know we're going to see Super 8 and I know he said something about the other guys having dates, but I don't know if that means _I'm_ his date or if he was just teasing. He… does that. And I have _no_ idea what to wear or how to act and I've never been on anything remotely _like_ a date before!" he burst out, covering his face with his hands.

Toris smiled reassuringly at him. "I've had some experience with the relationship-advice thing. My, uh, best friend—best description I've got, I guess—is really good at that stuff, and I've picked up a few things. Speaking of Feliks, that's his car over there, and it looks like Alfred's here too, so why don't you call me later and I'll see if I can help you out?" Toris held out his hand, and it took Matthew a minute to realize that he was asking for Matthew's phone to put his number in. Matthew handed it over, glancing over at Toris, whose face was lit up eerily by the glow from the backlight, and then in the direction in which he'd said his friend's car was. Matthew wondered if his friend was the one with the hot pink convertible—were those _leopard-print _seats? Toris… _had_ said "he," hadn't he?

"Here you go," Toris said, handing the phone back with a smile. "I like your phone, by the way."

"Oh… thank you," Matthew said, slightly disoriented. It was just a plain black flip phone with a text keyboard, nothing fancy, no touchscreens. He hated touchscreens. They were impossible to use with gloves on.

"No problem. Well, I'll see you next week!" Toris smiled again and waved as he walked toward the outrageously pink car. Matthew waved back awkwardly and walked to his brother's pickup, glancing at the new contact in his phone.

"Was that Toris you were talking to?" Alfred asked. "Oh, by the way, I got us a movie for tomorrow!"

Matthew jumped and tensed up, wondering how he was going to get out of this one.

"Um, tomorrow night?" Matthew hazarded.

"Sure, or during the day if you want, but I was thinkin' we could go hang out at the zoo… that is, if you wanted." Alfred looked eager, but as if he were trying to hold back in case his brother didn't like his suggestion.

"Uh… I'd love to, but I'm actually going, um, out." Matthew winced. This was not going to end well this was going to end so badly oh he was so screwed.

"Out? With who?"

Ignoring Alfred's bad grammar, Matthew decided he'd better stay as close to the truth as he could and said "Francis and some people he said he was going to bring. Not sure who."

"Mattie, I don't know if I want you to hang out with Francis's friends. They're kinda weird, and they, they might try to take advantage of you…" Alfred looked almost comically worried.

"It's just a movie, Al. Super 8, you know, that new Spielberg thing, the one they're keeping such a secret?"

"Awww, but I wanted to go see that with you!" Alfred pouted.

"You still can, just… next weekend, okay?" Matthew prayed that his brother wouldn't notice his evasion of the friends thing.

"All right, but you can't spoil it for me beforehand!"

"What if you ask?" Matthew teased, knowing his brother was horrible about spoilers. He tended to beg people for information and then get mad because the whole plot had been spoiled for him.

"You still can't tell me. Not even whether it's scary."

Matthew nodded solemnly, privately thinking that if it were scary he would do everything he could to avoid having to go to it with Alfred. Alfred and scary movies were a terrible mix. He professed to love them, but at the slightest mention of anything scary he'd bury his head in the nearest person's chest (which is why he usually opted to watch them with someone else, so he'd have a security blanket ready).

The next afternoon at approximately 2:30, Matthew had decided wholeheartedly that he would _not_ get roped into watching it with his brother. The train crash currently going on on-screen had gone on for at least two minutes and hadn't shown any sign of stopping, and even Lovino, who seemed to have an aversion to physical contact (or, at least, was vocal enough about it when someone tried to touch him) had his head buried in Antonio's chest and seemed to be whimpering. Sure, there were no ghosts, Alfred's main phobia—_yet_—but there were things that could be taken for ghostly activity of some kind and he was _not_ having his brother cling to him for two hours like some kind of plushie, not in an actual movie theatre.

…okay, that was scary. Matthew was fighting not to bury his own head in Gilbert's shoulder (not that Gilbert would probably have minded, except that he would have had his view obstructed, and from the way he was muttering "awesome" under his breath, Matthew got the impression he was rather glued to the screen).

Francis reached over Matthew's shoulder—the one farthest away from him—for the popcorn and narrowly avoided being punched in the face by an irate Matthew, whose anger was only diffused by Gilbert's mutter of "Oh, good idea!" and prompt "attempt to reach the Twizzlers over Matthew's head."

"Gilbert, stop that!" Matthew hissed when Gilbert's arm showed no sign of moving.

"What? I'm allowed," Gilbert replied, smirking at Matthew's squeak when he tightened his grip. Sighing, Matthew resigned himself to being ridiculously uncomfortable because he had no idea whether Gilbert was actually serious and the proximity was doing strange things to him. He really, really wished he'd had a chance to talk to Toris, but by the time Alfred left him alone last night it was way too late to call anyone and the next morning he was too busy going over his solos before rehearsal so he wouldn't completely panic.

"No fair, how come he gets to and I don't?" Francis whispered, smirking, in Matthew's other ear, and slipped his right arm around Matthew's shoulders, poking Gilbert as he did so. Matthew had no idea what Francis's date, some random girl he'd never seen before, thought of this. Although when he looked over, the girl seemed to be enjoying the movie and not paying attention to her date's actions at all.

Matthew tried hard to pay attention to the movie after that, despite Gilbert and Francis trying to start a war over him (in more ways than one). When the alien showed up on-screen, both boys comically hid their heads in his chest and pretended to be scared. Francis's date, Matthew noticed, was still watching and didn't seem to be in need of hiding her head anywhere. And, of course, Gilbert's "fear" only lasted a few seconds before he was staring at the screen again and making snarky comments about the CGI. After a while Francis went back to annoying his own date and it was just Gilbert, being ridiculously over-the-top as usual. Not to mention stealing Matthew's food. And suggesting that he start at one end of the Twizzler and Matthew at the other. Matthew didn't think his face would ever recover from the blush brought on by that one.

When the ending credits _finally_ rolled, Antonio and Lovino were already arguing (well, _Lovino_ was arguing) and Francis was having some sort of conversation with his date. Which left Matthew and Gilbert to actually watch the credits while the others packed up to leave.

The others missed out on what, in Matthew and Gilbert's opinions, was the best part of the movie—the zombie movie the kids made with their Super 8 camera. For the first time during the whole movie, they were both actually paying attention to the movie and there was no over-the-top "you-are-my-date"-ness, as Matthew had begun to dub it in his head. Then they went out into the main area of the mall, blinking at the sudden light, and realized that everyone else had disappeared. Which… oh crap. Because Francis had driven.

They amused themselves for a while after texting for rides by making snarky comments about the upcoming movie posters, and then Gilbert (more than a little sugar-high) tried to get Matthew to dance with him. Matthew was fast realizing that one should never, ever give Gilbert Beilschmidt sugar.

"Mattieeee~" Gilbert sing-songed. "C'mon!"

"No. Really, no. We're in the middle of the mall, Gil."

"_The night is young, the sky is clear, and if you'd like to go walking dear—_" Gilbert started to sing.

"That's my part, Gil."

"You're the one who isn't dancing!"

"You really shouldn't have sugar, should you?"

"Nope~!"

"And definitely not most of a pack of Twizzlers, a couple of Gobstoppers, a package of Junior Mints and one of SweetTarts. And popcorn. Do you have a hollow leg or something?"

"Yup. Oh, here's my ride. Gotta go!" Gilbert grinned and, before Matthew could protest, grabbed him, spun him around and dipped him.

"Bye," he said, winking, and pulled him up by the hand before running off down the escalator. Literally running. Matthew thought that was dangerous but he was a bit too hazy to think much more than "OHMYGOD."

He was so totally screwed.

**So I picked Super 8 because I'm setting this during last summer and that's the one movie I had time to go see during my own production of Anything Goes. I went with my friend and let's just say by the end I'm sure the entire theatre shipped us. And I was mentally facepalming and going "Why? Why is she Alfred?" Um, yeah, slightest sign of anything scary and she had her head buried in my boobs. Also she squeezed my hand so hard a couple of times I thought she was going to draw blood. It was fun though! XD**

**Oh, and this is un-beta'd because my beta is leaving for California tomorrow and I don't want to burden her with another thing to take care of before she leaves, so if you spot any mistakes or plotholes please tell me and I'll fix them. Thanks! ^-^**

***coughreviewsarelovedcough***


	5. Author's Note

**Author's Note**

I apologize profusely for the long-unfinished WIP (seems to be my curse, I'm afraid). Unfortunately, I don't think I will be continuing this one. I am largely uninspired and have mostly gotten out of Hetalia fandom, plus my real life is so busy I barely have time to write original fiction, much less fanfic. I'm tired of feeling obligated to finish things and I'm going to get out of fandom in general for a while. Hopefully no one's too upset with me.


End file.
